


fates

by Weboury



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: (and you get to walk and you get to walk), Fictober 2019, Other, and old godswoods, because why the hell not, canon!verse, everyone walks in this one too because apparently i have lotr syndrome, i'm stretching some things here but who cares, magic wells, siblings go on an adventure, the title sucks because i suck at titles, unbeta'd because i still don't know where to get one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 11:57:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21015407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weboury/pseuds/Weboury
Summary: Galladon takes Brienne to the ruins of Morne to search a magic well that will, Ser Goodwin claims, show them their future.Prompt: “What if I don’t see it?”





	fates

Leaves snapped and squelched with every step, breaking the stillness of the ruins of Morne. 

_ Crunch, crunch, crunch. _

Brienne darted her big blue eyes around, searching the darker corners for lurking menaces, but she could only find the caress of the breeze and the quietude of stone, and she had no choice but to follow her boots. And her brother.

“Galladon,” she whispered, trying to control the shake of her voice. She was almost five now, after all. She was becoming a lady. “Galladon, where’s the magic well?”

Galladon walked ahead of her, cloaked in Tarth blue, a sheathed knife on his hip. He was tall for his age, even if she was, too, everyone told her. She liked that they had that in common, regardless of how much it annoyed her she was never quite as big as him.

“We’re almost there, I swear,” he said, glancing back. “Are you tired?”

“No.” Brienne stopped, fidgeting with the hem of her crimson dress. “But… Father.”

Galladon turned to face her, twinkling blue eyes and a puff of straw-like hair peeking under his hood. “Brienne, are you scared? Of _ Father _?” 

The smirk in his lips made her nose wrinkle and her shoulders square. “I’m _ not _ scared,” she squealed, higher than she intended, and her face went bright red. The septa would’ve said it was unladylike to get angry like this, but she just couldn’t help it.

“Good,” Galladon adopted a serious tone now, towering over her. “Because knights can’t be scared. And you want to be a knight, don’t you?”

Brienne pursed her lips. She wanted her own knife, like Galladon.

“But where’s the well, then?” She pressed. Speaking had cast the mystery of the place a little away, and she could now sense the dampness in the air from all the overgrown ivy and moss. “Did you really see it?”

“I _ never _ lie,” Galladon chuckled, extending a hand to her. She took it, wondering if it could be true. She wanted to lie, sometimes. And sometimes she tried. About what had happened to the dresses Brienne liked the least, or about how often she practiced her stitching. But she hadn’t told anyone, even if she felt bad. She didn't want to disappoint Father.

“I saw it when I came with Ser Goodwin,” Galladon continued. “He told me the story. The trees and rocks have magic.” He kicked a worn-out piece that had once been a wall. “They remember, even when everyone else forgets.”

They turned a corner and found it. The well had been carved amidst the old walls. Cedars, pines, and sentinels grew and twisted around it. A young white-barked tree girded the well with its roots, and Brienne felt the need to adjust her brawny cloak. She had the terrible feeling they were being watched. 

Galladon shifted on his feet. “Ser Goodwin is so old that he gets jumpy, so he made us stay here,” he said. “But he said the trees and rocks remember.”

“You said that _ already _.”

Galladon jokingly tugged at her hand. “I wasn’t _ finished _. He said people remember backwards, but magic things are special. They remember forward.” He used his free hand to show her the movement. 

Brienne raised her eyebrows, convinced she’d make sense of it eventually, and nodded.

“So they know everything that’s ever happened and everything that will happen in the history of the world,” Galladon kept going, lowering his voice so much she could barely hear him. “Ser Goodwin said that if you are a good knight, and you look down the well, the well will show you your fate. Your future,” he clarified, looking at her sideways.

“Oh.”

That seemed exciting, Brienne thought. _ Real magic, right at home _. She smiled and waited for Galladon to move, but he didn’t. They stood there for a long while, holding hands and hearing themselves breathe. The well stared right back at them, seemingly growing darker and wider by the moment, daring them to do what they had come to do.

She glanced up at her brother, who had an air of determination written all over his freckled face. He was getting stronger now, Father had said, and he was eager to prove it. He'd been doing things like this, lately. Things that Father or Ser Goodwin would've preferred he didn't do, not by himself, anyways. And he often took Brienne with him, which she was glad about, because it meant an adventure, like in the stories. He said every knight needed a lady to see his greatness, but Brienne thought he often looked like when a puppy cuddled in her lap because it missed its mother.

So if he wasn’t going to do it… 

Closing her eyes, Brienne inhaled deeply and stepped forward. 

“Brienne,” Galladon whispered, tightening the grip of his fist.

Brienne half turned and gave him a smile. 

“It's just an old smelly well,” she said, and kept walking. His hand left hers, and even if it felt cold, her boots didn’t stop. She heard Galladon shifting behind her, and then his steps, and soon he was next to her.

“You can't go alone,” he scolded, swallowing a tremble. “You're too small.”

“I'm _ not _small,” she complained, but her heart wasn't into it. She had made him move all by herself. Galladon could say whatever he wanted.

They reached the well and turned around to the most ravaged side, where roots and time had crumbled the stone, so they could both peek down without needing to touch more than necessary. 

Galladon cleaned his hands on his britches. “Ready?”

Brienne felt her heart racing. _ A good knight _ , her mind repeated. _ A good knight _. “Wait.”

Galladon shot her a grateful look. 

“Galladon,” she swallowed, “what if I don't see it?”

He frowned. Brienne thought of her want to lie, of the anger that railed her up and made her cry, the way she wanted to pet the dogs gently but upset them still. 

“What if I don't see anything?” She kept going. “Am I...?”

Galladon frowned, thinking. “Impossible,” he said. “You’re the bravest and strongest girl in Tarth.”

Brienne exhaled in relief. “Really?”

“I promise it will show you your future,” Galladon lowered her hood and ruffled her hair. “Or Ser Goodwin was telling stories just to scare us, like little children.”

Brienne allowed herself a short laugh. The well, she thought, wouldn’t mind the noise too much.

“Ready?” Galladon repeated. 

She nodded. Galladon held her shoulder, and they leaned forward. 

_ Darkness sucked her in, down down down the well, until it was so dark light sparked everywhere and nowhere at once. It was a whirl of water, of wind; a stretch and a crouch and the need to scream, but there was no air, there was no chest. A tall, yellow-haired knight donned on a blue armor. Jaws opened and released bouts of fire. Green eyes, a blood-red sword, a golden hand, all shining with the sun. An iron throne. And a terribly pale face, eyes white, lifeless, and darkness again, a darkness that stretched forever and ever and… _

A raven cawed, and Brienne fell backwards, as if pushed by an invisible force. She was panting, and there was sweat in her brow. Galladon’s hand was still clasped to her cloak, and she saw he’d gone all flushed, his clear blue eyes watering but fixed on the white tree that hugged the well. 

“I saw something,” Brienne huffed, the images already fading. She broke into a smile. “Galladon, I saw something!”

Her brother frowned, as if he only heard her from far away. “Really?” 

His voice was thin, but Brienne was already standing up. “I think I saw a dragon, and, and, and a ghost!” She tugged at Galladon’s arm. “I think I saw you too! A knight with blue armor!”

Galladon gave her a weak smile, and stood up with difficulty. “Good,” he patted her head. “Let’s go back now.”

Brienne’s smile dimmed. There was fear in her brother’s eyes as he heeled around, stumbling on the stones. “Galladon.” 

He stopped, his hands twitching. “Brienne, let’s go.”

“What did you see?” 

Brienne feared. She wasn’t sure why. She wanted to run away, but she couldn’t decide from what if Galladon didn’t explain it to her.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me. Please.”

He shook his head. “It’s just a stupid story,” he tried to smile. “I thought I heard something. And then nothing. It’s just a story.”

Deep breaths ran through his chest, as if he was trying to control them and failing. Brienne frowned. 

It wouldn’t have been the first time, Brienne thought. She’d made things up in her head before, and she wanted them to be true. Sometimes she dreamed things and she thought they were true, too, until someone reminded her. But it had felt real, even if she couldn’t picture the things she’d seen very well. The feeling was real.

“What did you hear?” Brienne asked, going to his side.

Galladon took her hand, checked his knife was still in place, and began striding, as much as an 8-year-old could stride.

“... The sea.” 

“Oh.” Brienne was disappointed. She’d wanted to hear all the great stuff Galladon would do. She had probably made it all up in her head, then. “At least we like the beach.” 

“Yes, the beach is nice,” he announced, shaking his head. “It’s just stories,” he repeated, under his breath, and Brienne sensed he didn’t want to talk anymore, so she didn’t reply. 

Behind were the ruins of Morne, and the moss, and the twisted and growing trees. Brienne thought it didn’t seem so somber anymore, and felt the need to run again to their horse, though she didn’t know which way.

“Are we lost?” Brienne asked Galladon, suddenly hoping he’d say yes, and they’d have an adventure.

“Brienne,” Galladon gave her a smug smile, “I’d never lose you, remember? I promised.” 

“Oh, right.” 

Brienne grinned, even if she was disappointed. Galladon’s hand would keep her safe because her brother’s promise, she was certain, was not just a story.

**Author's Note:**

> I just love magic wells and siblings doing things together so sorry because I have no idea if there are godswoods in Tarth or the ruins of Morne


End file.
